Englands plan
by Wooly Pig Socks
Summary: Scotland kicked me out.' 'What, why' America asked. 'Because he's a git, now where's your car' Scotlands kicked him out and stolen his house, but England isn't gonna stand for that! Rated T for England and Scotlands language. established USUK.
1. Chapter 1

**This isn't really a sequal to America's proposal,**

**but just to let you guys know.**

**England and America are married**

**and England has four brothers**

**Scotland, Wales, Ireland and Northern Ireland.**

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England needed tea. Now. He'd been at a meeting in France for a while and was in desperate need for a decent cuppa. Pulling his key from his pocket he put it in the lock. Only to find it wouldn't fit.

'Fuck.' he muttered, then spotted a note.

_-_

_Ach, England you git! You're not getting this house back until you listen to me! And dunnea bother going to our brothers aboot this, they're on my side. I ain't so mean as to make you homeless, so I rang that Husband o' yours and sent some clothes over. 'owever, I ain't givin' in or owt before you come crawlin' back and give me more fuckin' control over me own country!_

_Fuck you,_

_Scotland._

-

'OH FOR FUCKS SAKE, SCOTLAND OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR OR SO HELP ME I WILL SET YOU ON FIRE AND DANCE ON YOUR ASHES.'

A top floor window opened.

'IS THAT A THREAT GIT FACE?' Scotland screamed.

''WHY YES IT FUCKING IS. SCOTLAND YOU ARSEWIPE! THE ONLY THING PREVENTING ME FROM ARSON RIGHT NOW IS THE FACT THAT MOST OF MY STUFFS IN THERE.'

'D'YA MEAN STUFF LIKE _THIS?' _Scotland screamed and dangled England's guitar out of the window.

'DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!'

'DARE WHAT? DROP YOUR FUCKING PRECIOUS _ELIZABETH?' _Scotland yelled and threw the guitar out the window, then scowled when England managed to catch it. With one final 'FUCK YOU.' he shut the window and retreated back inside. Grumbling, England slung his guitar on his back and made his way to the airport.

-

'IG!' America screamed and ran towards his husband.

'Good god Love, It's only been a few days.'

'It feels longer, that's all.' America picked England up in a hug, beaming. England smiled back and kissed America, for once not caring about being in a public place. Since the two had married England had become slightly less uptight about showing affection, but that didn't stop him from blushing like a tomato. America put England down and grabbed his hand.

'I managed to get ya some tea, but I ain't sure it's the right one... I'm a little confused why your visitin' Ig, 'coz ya know I was gonna come an' stay with you next week.'

'Scotland kicked me out.'

'What, why?' America asked.

'Because he's a git, now where's your car?' America ruffled England's hair with his free hand and led him to his mustang.

-

'Scotland sent you some clothes over, the suitcases are over there." America pointed to three large suit cases. England grabbed them and took them up to his and America's room to unpack.

"WHAT THE FU- SCOTLAND!" England screamed. America burst into the room wielding a flag pole.

"WHAT? IGGY ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

"I'm fine! America put that down before you do yourself a mischief."

"Why'd you yell then?" America asked him.

"Look what clothes Scotland sent over!" England cried holding up a pair of leather trousers and a pirate hat. America raised an eyebrow and began going through the rest of the clothes. Combat boots, Tartan, Long coats, baggy shirts and an ever increasing pile of leathers were found.

"Ig, whose are these?"

"They're mine."

"HAHAHAHAHAaaahahaaHAHAH! You're kidding, right?"

"No I am not fucking kidding!" America carried on laughing. "Fine then you git! I'll prove it." England screamed and grabbed the nearest pile of clothes, then stalked into the bathroom.

-

In the bathroom England looked at the clothes he grabbed and his face lit up. Rummaging through the many pockets of the trousers he'd grabbed he grinned as he pulled out his eyeliner and long since removed piercings. After a few minutes he came out the bathroom, decked out from head to toe in punk attire. Tartan bondage trousers clung to his legs, converse adorned his feet and his most obnoxious Sex Pistols shirt covered his chest. He'd put his piercing back in, so his ears, lip, nose, eyebrow and tongue were all covered in metal. Eyeliner had been expertly applied and his hair was even messier than usual. America took one look and nearly choked on his coffee.

"Iggy? Wha-" America started, but found himself distracted by England's maniacal grin, a grin which would make small children cry.

"I 'ave a plan to make that fucker pay for jackin' me 'ouse." England declared and got out his mobile.

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**England actually says 'I have a plan to make that fucker pay for stealing my house.'**

**just saying because not everyone's too good with English accents.**

**If you wanna see what shirt Englands wearing PM me**

**(doesn't want to scare small children)**

**review?  
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	2. Chapter 2

'Who're you texting, Ig?'

'Some old mates of mine.' England grinned that creepy grin again, but this time let out a small chuckle.

'Uhh...I'm gonna go to the toilet... I'll be right back.' America said, backing away from the, now laughing maniacally, England. Pulling his own phone out he flipped through his contacts, found the right one and hit the dial button.

'Bonjour! France speaking.'

'FRANCE, IGGYS GONE CRAZY.'

'Amérique?'

'YEAH, IT'S ME. HELP.'

'What's going on?'

'SCOTLAND KICKED IG OUT AND HE'S DRESSED WEIRD AND LAUGHING LIKE A SUPERVILLAIN.'

'Laughing like a super villain? Let me hear.' America sneaked out from the bathroom and put the phone near the open bedroom door, where England was still laughing. Another voice yelled down the phone.

'MY ARMADA! MY BEAUTIFUL ARMADA!'

'Spain?' America asked, then jumped as England popped out of nowhere and plucked his phone from his hand.

'Avast.' he said, making Spain begin crying and screaming.

'Wow, not even the awesome me can do that.' Prussia was heard to say.

'We'll be right over! L'espagne will be fine soon!' France sang down the phone and hung up.

-

Spain was rocking back and forth, clinging to a small blanket, muttering about his Armada. France looked concerned and was trying to figure out exactly _what _was wrong with England.

'This behaviour seems similar, doesn't it Prusse?' France asked.

'Yeah, sorta.'

'I can't think why, though!'

'Why don't you have a look through your 'England files' as you so unawesomely call them?'

'Aha! Great idea Prusse! I knew I put up with you for a reason!'

'It's because I'm naturally awesome!' France rolled his eyes and skipped over to his computer.

'Let's see, Aha! Angleterre!' France cried while scrolling through his files. He had pictures and notes about each country stored on his computer. Looking through he discovered something... Fun.

'Aha! It's Punk and Pirates mixed together!' France cried.

'So England's become some sort of Punkrat?' Prussia asked, leaning on Frances shoulder.

'It would appear so! This will be entertaining.' France grinned, making Prussia worry for a split second about his friends sanity.

-

**DING DONG... **There was no answer, France stuck his ear against the door.

"AMERICA, STOP HIDING IN THE CLOSET!"

'I'M NOT HIDING, I TOLD YOU I SAW A MOUSE IN HERE AND I'M CATCHING IT FOR YOU.'

'America, I weren't born yesterday. Get out the closet.'

'YOU WEREN'T SCARY YESTERDAY EITHER.' At this Prussia managed to barge down the door.

"PRUSSIA YOU FUCKER! YOU OWE ME A NEW DOOR."

'Ahaa, good afternoon Angleterre!' France sang and ruffled England's hair, then screamed in pain as England bit him.

"OW! MERDE, FILS DE PUTE!" England grinned at France, flipping him the V sign, reserved only for France.

"Good one England!" Prussia yelled, high fiving England.

"Spain, why the 'ell are you 'iding be'ind them two?"

"I wasn't hiding!"

"I'M NOT EITHER!" America called from the closet.

"Bloody 'ell America!" England cried and forcibly dragged America from his hiding place.

-

"So, Angleterre, I hear Ecosse has kicked you out."

"Yes 'e 'as, but believe me, I 'ave a plan."

"Is it something to do with your current get up?" Prussia questioned.

"It might do, now clear off. I've got some stuff to do." England declared, shoving the three out of the door and turning to America.

"c'mon, we've got some people to see."

"P-people?"

"Yup! But, you can't go like that, you'll get done in. Hmm, come wiv me." England grabbed Americas hand and went off to find some suitable clothes for him.

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**Aha, the plot thickens.**

**Pfft, that failed.**

**Englands plan will be revealed next chapter!**

**so please, reveiw so I know someones reading this...**

**:)  
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	3. Chapter 3

America stared at the pile of clothes in horror, **tartan, leather, metal, spikes, long coat and OH MY GOD, is that EYELINER? What is he trying to **_**do **_**to me? **He thought. **Maybe I could sneak out... **America crept towards the window of his room and tried to open it. "Shit." He muttered, finding that England hadn't just locked it, but welded it together. Sighing, America wandered over and put the clothes on. Well, he tried to at least...

"IGGY! HELP!" he cried, somehow he'd tangled himself up in his outfit and, god knows how, covered himself in eyeliner. England burst in, waving his cutlass round madly.

"WHAT? AMERICA ARE YOU ALRI-" England began, then stopped and began to snigger.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!"

"AHAHAHA, YES IT IS! HOW'D YOU MANAGE TO MESS UP DRESSING YOURSELF?"

"I'm not used to dressing like this!" America said in a small voice. Rolling his eyes, England grabbed a makeup wipe and began to clean America's face, snickering slightly.

"See there! That weren't too 'ard were it?" England grinned. He'd managed to redress America properly and even apply eyeliner.

"No... I s'pose not." America muttered, embarrassed that England had had to dress him, it was just like being a child again.

"Hmm, there's something missing..." England said, walking around America. "Aha!" he cried and snapped his fingers. He dived into one of his bags and pulled out an odd, gun shaped object.

"Ig... What've you got there?" America asked, backing away from his crazed husband.

"Nuffin, it's just a piercing gun." England shrugged.

"WHAT!?" America yelped, now hiding under the bed.

"Oh, c'mon! Don't tell me tha' the United States Of America is scared o' a lil needle!" England taunted. At this America leapt out from under the bed.

"OF COURSE NOT! I'M THE HERO!" he cried.

"Alright then 'Mr. Hero' come 'ere" England grinned, wielding the piercing gun like a weapon. America obliged and offered his ear.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!"

"Jesus Christ! America you've made us late now!" England yelled, pissed off.

"Well, sorry! But that hurt!" America sulked, massaging his now pierced earlobe. England rolled his eyes and wandered off into the garage.

"Hmm, now where'd I put 'er?

"Put who?" America asked, following England. After searching about a bit England came to a stop, right next to a large object covered in a sheet.

"Aha! There she is!" England cried, pulling off the sheet and revealing a perfectly intact Harley Davidson.

"Is that a motor bike? I didn't know you could ride one!"

"Course I can, it's the best way to get anywhere!" England mounted the bike and started it up. "'Ad 'er for years, but she still runs like a dream, now c'mon, get your arse in gear!" America climbed on the back and put his arms round England's middle.

"Ig? shouldn't we wear helmets?"

"Pfft, 'elmets are for wimps!" England cried and drove out the garage as fast as he could.

**CRASH!**

"FUCK FUCK FUCK! THAT WAS MY FAVOURITE BIKE AS WELL!"

"WELL MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T SPEEDING SO DAMN MUCH WE WOULDN'T HAVE HIT THAT TREE!"

"MAYBE IF YA WEREN'T SCREAMIN' SO LOUD I WOULD'VE BEEN ABLE TO CONCENTRATE!"

"I WASN'T SCREAMING."

"OH YEAH, WHAT WERE YA DOIN' THEN?"

"VOCAL EXERCISES!"

"PFFT, YEAH RIGHT! ANYWAY, FUCK THAT, WE'RE 'ERE." The two nations untangled themselves from the wreckage and stood up.

"Me mates should be in there." England said, gesturing to a nearby skate park.

"Are you sure? It looks a little rough..." America muttered, looking uncertain. England grabbed America's hand and squeezed it, smiling slightly.

"Don't worry." He said in a hushed voice. "Nothing will 'appen to you, I know this place pretty well."

"Well, if you say so..." America still looked less than enthusiastic.

"America, you know I'd never let any of me mates 'urt you." England reached up and cupped Americas face softly. "I promise" he leant in and kissed America lovingly, blushing the whole time. The two were interrupted by a loud voice.

"ARTHUR FUCKING KIRKLAND! YOU LITTLE SHITTER, WHERE YOU BEEN?!"

"SIDNEY BOLLOCKING PAYNE! I'VE BEEN LIVIN' IT UP IN 'MERICA, YOU LITTLE ARSE!" England cried happily, breaking away from America and launching himself at the middle aged punk.

"'Merica? I thought you 'ated it there?"

"I did, by the way, it ain't just 'Kirkland' anymore." England grinned.

"What d'ya mean 'it ain't just Kirkland'?" 'Sidney' looked confused.

"It's Arthur _**Jones-Kirkland **_now."

"What? Wouldn't your wife change 'er name or summat? And who the 'ells 'e?" Sidney asked, gesturing to America.

"That, you blind lil bugger, is Alfred. Me _'usband." _

"YOU GOT MARRIED AND YOU DIDN'T INVITE ME? YOU BASTARD!"

"I DID! YOU TURNED UP LATE, GOT WASTED AND LUDWIG AND IVAN 'AD TO THROW YOU OUT!"

"Oh... I always wondered what 'appened on Valentine's day..."

"Lemme guess, you woke up in a ditch again?"

"Course, nowhere betta for a good night's sleep!" The two of them began to laugh, while America shuffled nervously, feeling completely out of his depth.

"C'mon, all the guys are waitin' for us." Sidney lead them into the skate park.

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**Gah, it's been ages since I updated this.**

**FAIL.**

**Btw, the conversation with England and Sidney happened, but with America as sid.**

***Is somehow married to France***

**Erm, a Cookie or whatever for whoever guesses the inspiration for Sidney's name.**

**Also, I'm bored and sick, so if anyone wants any oneshots or anything written just PM me.**

**Because I have no life.**

**Reveiw?  
**


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